


Many Paths Yet to Tread

by Hecate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Purple Prose, Roadtrip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/pseuds/Hecate
Summary: Adam and Michael, in hell and after.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32
Collections: fandomtrees





	Many Paths Yet to Tread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kingstoken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingstoken/gifts).



Adam used to hate road trips. The landscape racing the car and falling behind made him dizzy. The road ahead of them pulled at him, made him restless. Much better to stay in place; in his mother's arms, on a bench with a book in his hands. Dancing in Heaven through the faded memory of his prom night.

But then, Michael happens. 

He swallows Adam whole and hollows him out, pushes him into a corner and leaves him there. Silent and still, a puppet with his strings cut. 

For a while, it's still okay, this existence. This is the mission, he knows this, the freaking quests _angels_ sent him on, and he will make it through. And later, later he will see his mom. 

But he doesn't. 

Instead, they fall.

The Cage is all around them, and it's stillness, life gone blank. Hell isn't fire and chains, not here, it is an absence. Without Michael, he would fall into it never to come up again.

But Michael is there and with him so many stories. Stories about angels walking the earth before they left it all behind. Ancient memories of a world Adam has never yearned for before. But in hell, he aches for it, fields of blue flowers and canyons blooming red and orange during sunsets. Deserts and fields of snow and woods that don't seem to end.

And the oceans. 

He wants to see the oceans.

In turn, Adam tells Michael about his mom. About the songs she used to sing in the morning, tired and trying to keep herself awake. Her hands, warm and calloused and strong. The frown on her face when John visited them and didn't call ahead.

They don't talk about their brothers. There isn't much to tell. Or maybe, there is too much, and hell is not the place for these stories anyway.

So there are stories, and there's Michael. And sometimes, it's okay being in this place. Sometimes, it's warm and easy with Michael all around him, and Adam is not afraid. 

When hell opens up, he doesn't quite realize it at first. Not until Michael rises and Adam does not, a used up shell left behind.

The Cage presses in on him.

And Adam is alone, he's a blank thing, he's nothing. 

He's almost gone.

He wants to be gone.

There's a noise that splits through everything, that calls him back. It's alien and pained, and he thinks it's Lucifer, it's a demon, it's something breaking apart. 

It's _Michael_.

Power, bright and sharp and familiar, and Michael is back with him, furious and strong, and Adam can feel again. All around them, hell rages, it pulls at Adam, pulls him down, but all Adam knows is Michael's grip on his soul.

It seems to last forever.

But forever has already passed them in the Cage.

And Michael won't leave him behind.

A shattering sound, something unbending, and they are out. They are out, and there's ground beneath his knees and the sky above, and Adam is laughing, and he can't stop.

Michael is quiet.

A truck passes them, the ground vibrating beneath Adam, the sound of the engine unfamiliar. Laughter close by. A door closing with a clap.

"Holy shit," Adam whispers after seconds, after hours. He doesn't know how much time has passed since Michael pulled them out. He doesn't know how much time passed since Sam pushed them in. "Holy shit, we made it."

"Yes," Michael agrees, a calm voice in his head.

"Oh shit." Adam stands up, unsteady, looks around. Sees a diner. Laughs again. "Remember when I told you about fries?" 

It's a dumb question. But everything is silly and loud and too much right now. He doesn't know how to be anything other than dumb.

He just escaped hell.

He thinks he might be hungry.

"I remember everything," Michael answers: When Adam first let him in, his voice would have been cold and distant. Now, it's fond.

"Good, because I'm gonna have some now," Adam says.

For maybe half an hour, things are almost normal. He's in a diner, and he is eating a burger. Michael sits with him. And Adam thinks about a future. 

And then Lilith. The Winchesters. God.

He really needs to stop dying.

Though, he's getting better at coming back.

Michael is with him, a bit angrier than before. Sadder, too. But he's there. Adam feels the way Michael spreads through him, a gift, a promise, and he whispers a prayer to some power he doesn't know.

It's not God. But he doesn't quite care about what came for them instead. He can do that later. Now,  
they got time. They got the world.

He steals a car. He probably should feel bad about it but Michael doesn't, and if an angel doesn't care, Adam tells himself to let it go. Tells himself to let himself be more like a Winchester for a bit.

Michael lets him drive.

And Adam, Adam loves it. 

He stops for roadside attractions: giant plastic sharks and mystery houses, strange museums and stranger skeletons. He eats fries and burgers and chili chicken. He doesn't sleep, doesn't need to anymore, and he spends nights staring at the stars, asking Michael if there is more out there than this world. More life.

"Yes," Michael replies, "there is. Again." 

It makes Adam glad.

Sometimes, when the night sky is empty, he looks over to Michael and wonders what it would feel if he could touch him. Sometimes, Michael turns to him in response, and Adam feels him pressing outwards, pushing in, and it's good, it's perfect, and lights explode inside of him.

"I can't be here on Earth without your body," Michael says once. "But if it's not what you want..."

Adam shudders. 

He never wanted Michael's doubt. 

He wraps his arms around himself, tight and hard, a useless gesture. He speaks aloud when he answers, the words sound instead of thought. "Nah, you stay right here."

So Michael stays.

And Adam drives.

When they reach the ocean, Michael pushes forward. Not all the way, not until Adam has to fall back but until they are side by side, easy and warm. And Adam can look at the world with eyes that see more than his own.

The water goes on forever, a promise made long ago, and he sees foam dancing on waves, birds diving into the water and breaking free again, ships and white sails. He sees the darkness beneath it all.

And far ahead in the distance, more.

They got everywhere to go.


End file.
